I don't have feelings, I AM feelings.

What Waking Stole

how deep the sea, how red the sands of distant shores
where intersecting places dive up t’ward the world
where they part, and where our dreams divide us
sheer us root to crown and send us seeking
sleepers waked and walking in the world

we have looked across the intervening space
at strangers faces, over coffee, sometimes in a crowd
we have known them from the footprints in our dreams
the shapes of somnus feet spelled out in recesses
somewhere behind the eyes where lies

a rumbling recognition

we have reached out to each other, each to each
slumbering arms spanning seas and continents

I like the confidence in the words here against the ephemeral dream. My favorite lines: “the shapes of somnus feet spelled out in recesses”, “the crumbling bridge of moonlight” and the “ladder of childish things”.